Rising Sun
by Jakefan.EFP
Summary: Exercise: Take a highlighter, preferably in a warm color, re-read New Moon and Eclipse and score all the points where Bella talks about Jacob. Then tell me that it's not pure love. They ask for another opportunity: I'll give them mine.
1. Prologue

_"Nobody wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven do not want to die to get there "  
>(Steve Jobs to graduates of Stanford, 2005)<em>

It happened once, while I was driving down that last stretch of the muddy dirt road that leads to the house of Jacob, that a stone had hit the windshield of the Chevy, leaving a tiny mark. Much Ado About Nothing, and an outsized fright, as Victoria was hunting me at the time and any little noise out of the ordinary caused me, as well as a heart attack, the vision of myself on the ground in a pool of blood, under the clutches of a monster with bright red shining hair.  
>Jake had insisted that I immediately had the windshield fixed.<br>-But that's nothing! Look, I can't even see the sign- I replied.  
>He explained to me, then, that the invisible chip on the glass had caused a break in the deepest level of the whole structure of the crystal. An invisible break, but it would have exploded into a myriad of pieces as soon as it would come past the point of no return.<br>-Just drive into a pothole, Bells, and you'll find yourself in the oper air.  
>So, once again, I listened to my favorite mechanic, even if it the problem was not exactly in the engine this time, and I did had the chip fixed, in a fast-fit station.<br>But the thought of the invisible chip that one day, sooner or later, is destined to destroy the crystal, had strangely and deeply impressed on my mind. I had created a kind of mental picture very vivid and real of it. I saw and reviewed by the mind's eye the wound underground, corrupting the essence of the glass and finally causing the explosion, in a billion drops of light. The shining fragments sparkled of a bright brilliance, very similar to the fascinating vision of Edward's skin, a distant day in our meadow.

Now I felt as if I were the crystal and the silent work of destruction was done to myself. Not under the skin, but much more deeply.  
>If I had to identify exactly when the crack had begun to form, I had to necessarily return to the memory of days the mere thought of which made me bent over in pain.<br>I was on the very cliff that overlooks the stretch of beach called First Beach, where the Quileute boys throw themselves in the water to prove their courage. I watched the water, from far away, foaming under me and watched the horrified Edward in my thoughts, trying to convince me not to jump.  
>Hearing his words, his voice worrying about me was exactly what I needed. Even knowing it was a hallucination.<br>I took a rapid run-up and jumped.  
>People say that you review your entire life in an instant before dying; I had not sought death with intent, but something inside me, the little of me that was still healthy, knew that the risk of dying was much more of an hypothesis.<br>The rocks approached and the wind wrapped in a whipping spiral around my body, going up the rocky coast, and taking my breath away with him.  
>It was at that moment that I knew it was true. Not that I had not already tried to see the face of Death: James had brought me very close to her, that I could almost touch her. But everything had been so much slower.<br>Again I saw the rocks get closer, the black water increasingly immense and frightening, and a continuum of faces: Charlie and Renee. Charlie who was informed of my death and called Renee, my parents in tears ... And I could no more console them. And Jacob, Jacob, split in two by remorse like a tree struck by lightning. Jacob destroyed by another loss, and, plunged into the forest, a wolf howling in pain.  
>I finally hit the water and was now struggling against the angry tide that pushed me against the rocks, until I lost consciousness.<br>When I awoke, Jacob was there in disbelief and too happy to see me still breathing.  
>At that moment I also learned of the death of Harry Clearwater: it was at the right time for me to crystallize the excruciating feeling of the extreme fragility of the bonds with those we love. Only a moment, a fraction of a thousandth of a second: the conviction that <em>nothing is obvious<em>. I risked to lose myself to the people who loved me. And there were, oh, there were. Edward was not among them, so I thought at the time, but for a brief moment I realized the enormous fortune of being still in the world and still be loved, even though I was only the shadow of myself.  
>Only a moment, a small flash of light before plunging back into my warm numbness, which was cured only by the presence of Jacob, as a temporary and insufficient remedy.<br>I think it was just that split second. The microscopic, hard stone that started the crack in the crystal.


	2. Fragile

_Hi guys! Here Chapter 2 of "Rising Sun". _

_Sorry for my English, my mother tongue is Italian._

_Thank you so much to Cloudshadow22 that wrote my FIRST REVIEW! And thanks and a lot of love to Fila and Arahan86… but they are old friends and supporter of this story, which has already been published in Italian on __.net__. Please, everybody: let me know your opinion and advice about the "look" of the story, if you can read it easily, as I'm not acquainted with the editor of ._

_So… Enjoy and let me know._

_Kisses,_

_J_

_**Fragile**_

The road ran smooth as velvet under the wheels of the Mercedes Guardian, which was taking me to the hospital in Forks at a comfortable pace. The soft music, the luxury interiors made me think to the Hall of a 5-star Grand Hotel. In which, incidentally, I could never feel at ease for more than ten minutes. Although I was now Bella Cullen, although this black monster had been my car for several months, the embarrassed Isabella Marie Swan that still lived in me would have given his right hand to get back her old Chevy.  
>Surely that poor scrap, despite the venerable age, had <em>not <em>died of natural causes. Before becoming my welcome gift to Forks, its engine had been reconditioned, by someone very cool in that stuff.  
>So the most likely hypothesis was that my then (very protective) boyfriend Edward Cullen, in the meantime become my even more protective husband, had practiced euthanasia to it overnight, so that I was forced to accept the Guardian. Armored and bullet-bomb-meteorite-proof: perfectly suited to someone like me, that used to collect assorted traumas as normal people collect DVDs, butterflies and postcards.<br>The Guardian was the car of _before_. There was a car for _after_, a Ferrari dunno-what, lying forgotten-especially by me- in a corner of the well-stocked family garage, still waiting for me to be less breakable and able to drive it without killing myself or some other unfortunate . It was sure that sooner or later I would become stronger, a lot stronger, because my husband and his family were vampires: immortal, beautiful, and indestructible. And sooner or later Edward would made me immortal too, to respect the pact which required my transformation into a vampire in exchange for our wedding.

The schedule of events, however, hadn't been respected. Not at all.

There had never been an _after_, or at least it was yet to come.  
>Already on the Esme island, where Edward and me had spent our honeymoon, the idea had taken shape to wait to turn me. Then, there had been that other fact; but even if nothing extraordinary had occurred, I would probably have found a way to postpone my transformation.<p>

I did not dare to say it even to myself, and I made sure to avoid the subject with Edward, who would take the opportunity to refuse to comply with our agreement. Sensitive, generous and still suffering for the loss of his own humanity, my husband could only see my transformation as a terrible condemnation instead of the gift I longed for, with all my heart; even if I constantly repeated that for me transformation was a prize, not a punishment. It would have granted me an extra- strength bonus, super-powers and all the rest. It would have granted me the super-beauty and maybe, finally I would feel myself adjusted to my new family of stone-made fashion models.

I saw no cons, only pros in my possible new condition. And I wanted eternity to spend it with Edward.  
>But some new circumstances had given me a renewed affection for my tender body, fragile but so passionate, capable of loving as I had never thought it was possible. I had tested this on the Esme Island. Edward and I had made love for the first time, although it was extremely dangerous for me. And apart from bruises, it had been almost like I had dreamed. I knew nothing about doing it after.<p>

But it was not even that.  
>There was more.<p>

There was something, an annoying and indefinite thought, to which I had forbidden the access in the conscious and rational part of my mind-if we can call "rational" a brain like mine, that would have allowed the vampirization of its owner.  
>There were dreams that surprised me, leaving me to wake up in a kind of bliss and wonder.<br>Unfortunately there was also the feeling of a door, a threshold to be crossed, but I would never take the step that would take me over to see what lay beyond. I always woke up too early to make sense of it, but I remained for hours with the feeling of something suspended, a lack, a question that demanded a response.

I was living in a fairy tale: I was on honeymoon on a tropical island with my husband, who loved me more than his life and was beautiful, rich and devoted for eternity. But in the blurred vision that my mind showed me at night, something had really affected me, so that I stopped insisting that Edward transformed me as soon as possible.  
>Officially, because I wanted to love him again and again with my mortal body. In truth, because those suspended and undefined feelings disturbed me, cracking my determination.<br>I was deeply ashamed, because our love story had always belonged to the realm of the absolute. Doubts, second thoughts, the "Oh God, I got it all wrong" were not part of our life together. I was Juliet, Edward was Romeo, and that was all. At least until a few months ago.

Edward had gone along with my new attitude without questioning it, so we decided that we would go to Hanover to attend Darthmouth College. Living our lives as newlyweds-rich students in one of the several residences, that the Cullens had bought close to the most prestigious colleges of America. The Cullen boys, in fact, used to graduate a lot, let's say every ten years: a way as any to spend the long time in front of you, when you become eternal.

Sure, Edward had never touched me again.

Our deal included that he would made love to me while I was still human, and he had honored it, but did not intend to hurt me again. Both times we were together I woke up bruised, then –he said- we would have tried again only after I had become a vampire; and I was okay with that.  
>Also Dartmouth then had become an out-of-date decision.<br>-Bella? Asleep? -  
>Edward was sitting next to me, driving the Guardian with the caution of one who carries a load of crystal glasses with no protective packaging.<p>

My eyes were closed and I had let myself slide on the reclined seat. Behind the pupils I tried to find something defined through the usual light fog in which I woke up a few months now.  
>-Are you okay, love? Are you tired?<p>

-A little. I was taking a nap.  
>It was not exactly so. Once again, I was trying to understand. One day or another I would talk to a psychiatrist, a psychologist, short: a professional. Why I never remember my dreams, it was not a problem, it happens to so many people. What was wrong, was the torment that all those unanswered questions left to me.<br>And, to be honest, I did not want to talk to Edward.  
>He had not yet overcome the shock of not being able to read my mind, as he did with the rest of the world, so he tried to understand me making me talk a lot.<br>A man who makes you talk about yourself endlessly for hours and hours, listening to whatever you say without losing the expression of boiled fish, that's the dream of all women. But not mine: I was the daughter of Charlie Swan, who loved to chat more or less like wearing a tuxedo or go to the dentist, events that caused him more or less the same kind of pleasure. Charlie and I were a perfect match, because our silence was enough for us. I missed my father so much, and I went to see him whenever I could.

However, I was being unfair to Edward: he understood me at times as if he had read my thoughts. Sometimes. But in the worst days he overwhelmed me with questions, and after the first three I could not stand them anymore. In the early days that we were together, I was deeply flattered by all this attention, but over time I would have liked, let's say, more intuition. That he knew who I was a little bit, perhaps? Heck, there are happy couples who understand each other very well even without superpowers, or without talking for hours and hours. At least they understand enough. Is it possible that we should just be thought-reading or third degree? Couldn't I have a healthy middle ground? Not even Charlie when interrogating a suspect was so, so ...tenacious like a bulldog with a bone, as Edward was sometimes to me.  
>Well, now I was really very unfair.<p>

Stupid, stupid Bella.

Nervous, restless, and unjust. I snorted loudly enough to alarm my husband.  
>-It was not necessary to get in the car if you were so tired, darling. You know that Carlisle could ...-<br>Of course I knew that Carlisle _could._ But today I needed a bath in normality.  
>-Edward, everything is fine. I'm happy to go for a ride, really. Stop worrying, don't you see yourself that I'm fine?<br>Carlisle could have made all the routine checks without any problem. He had dozens of specialties in medicine, accumulated in his three hundred and -four hundred maybe- years of life, including the one that I needed at that time. Furthermore, the family could easily afford to buy all the equipment needed, including a last generation 3D ultrasound. Maybe one on each floor, to prevent me from taking the stairs.

-Really, are you okay? -  
>-Of course. I just got confirmation directly. Ouch .-<br>-What is it, should I slow down?

-Edward, no. It's all _so_ perfect. Stop it!-I blurted out in exasperation.  
>He put his hands on my round belly, trying to perceive what I just felt myself.<br>They were all like mad: nothing would be too much for me, at that time, nor for the creature that was growing in my belly and had just reminded his presence with a kick, not even too delicate.  
>The first baby of the Cullen family.<p> 


	3. Interlude: One and alone

_**Interlude: One (and alone)**_

Is it getting better  
>Or do you feel the same<br>Will it make it easier on you now  
>You got someone to blame<br>You say...

_I watch you sleep and you're even more beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes are still wet, you cried and I didn't dried them; water that sparkles under your closed eyelids. You are damn beautiful, you're my Bella and it breaks my heart to watch you, knowing that I'm going to leave you.  
>You'll feel good tomorrow baby, for sure, I'll have your contempt after what has happened, it will be easy for you to think that you haven't lost anything.<br>I look at you, every line of your face and down, the sweet curves of your body, all is carved in my memory. I want to hurt myself, I want to be sure it'll not be too hard to see you when I'll close my eyes. In a minute there will be nothing left for me; this time I'm sure, I'll leave only scorched earth behind me._

One love  
>One life<br>When it's one need  
>In the night<br>One love  
>We get to share it<br>Leaves you baby if you  
>Don't care for it<p>

Did I disappoint you  
>Or leave a bad taste in your mouth<br>You act like you never had love  
>And you want me to go without<br>Well it's...

_It's time to go, I feel the dawn under my skin. I cannot let them find me here. Think, what a mess the day before your wedding! If it was not a tragedy it would make me laugh, I would remain just to see the face of the leech reading my thoughts. Charlie doesn't bother me instead, he would just pretend to get angry . He knows that I am perfect for you, love. You're the only one who insists on crushing my life and yours as two empty bottles to be thrown away.  
>I laugh in silence, maybe if I do so I can manage, I'll find the strength, I'm pulling myself away from you and it's like to cut flesh with a knife. Damn, let's go, a strong blow and go. I bleed, I bleed. Tears on my face but I swear it's not me, boys don't cry. I keep control, I'm not even sobbing, I step over the window sill and I rip myself from you. You sleep, my love. If you'd look at me like you did before I couldn't go anymore and you'd hate me. Tomorrow you'll hate me anyway and this will be good for both…<em>

_I run into the night and with a little brain still working I realize I must not change. I run and let the branches scratch me, I run fast, as hard as I can, what remains of my clothing is in tatters. I like to feel the wounds on my skin, they are distracting me from the blade of the knife. I convict me to be with myself but the forest is being kind to me, she's giving me a hand, again, tonight. I do not know where are my brothers. Just as well, this story is only mine, I wish I could say is our story and I lack the courage._

Too late  
>Tonight<br>To drag the past out into the light  
>We're one, but we're not the same<br>We get to  
>Carry each other<br>Carry each other  
>One...<p>

_I know very well that I disappointed you.  
>Home at last, I move quietly not to wake Billy. I don't take anything, just a few dollars, I'm a god with engines and I put aside some money, now it's enough for me to survive. Surviving is what I'll do, I do not know where or how. There's a mirror in my room, I hate what I see. You'll hate me for eternity, and your eternity will be quite long. A wicked grin, and then I laugh again: I feel inside that you'll be forced to think of me every time he will try to touch you. I clench my fists and hit the haggard face looking at me from the mirror, but I can't hit the love I feel for you and that kills me now. The glass shatters and all that I was is doing the same. Risk to wake up Billy... It's time to go.<em>

_I tear off a page from the calendar, it's today's page, August the 13th. I write something for Billy, I leave the note on the table and what's left of my whole life of yesterday._

_Too late, too late. I did everything I could, but it was too late. The past is gone, I close the door behind me and I feel the moon in my blood. I still can't drop everything and run into the forest, not yet…This is my wedding gift to you, Bella, do not throw it away, you don't know how much it costs me to stay in this body still warm of you, with your scent on me. I have to tear me away myself, I still have that knife scraping my skin. I resist, not yet, not yet._

_I jump in the car, nobody noticed anything or maybe my father understands that if I remain, I'll die; his silence is telling me to go._

Have you come here for forgiveness  
>Have you come to raise the dead<br>Have you come here to play Jesus  
>To the lepers in your head<p>

Did I ask too much  
>More than a lot<br>You gave me nothing  
>Now it's all I got<br>We're one  
>But we're not the same<p>

_I do not even know which road I took, I just know I'm driving and going away. I do not turn back, I press harder and go faster. I swear I'm not bawling like a little girl and I don't see these tears running off by themselves, do not know how to get them to stop but I still can see the road. The Golf is not fast enough but I have to be content, I can't go and run in the forest, not now, not yet. "What are you doing here" you asked me, and what about you? What did you come to do into my life? How many times have you apologized and then destroyed me again? And explain to me why I still love you, now?_

_Did I asked too much perhaps? Yes, it was so. That's just because I saw heaven in your eyes, a chocolate brown sky and I thought I was flying. You were my baby and you needed me, you were my friend ... No, you were everything. You took care of me, It was not me that saved your life, but you saved me and then you've thrown me away. We are one but we are not the same thing, we never solved this puzzle and now everything is falling apart. I'm moaning now, a wounded animal, but soon the dawn will come. I can't stop to see if behind the pain there is still something in my chest._

Well we  
>Hurt each other<br>Then we do it again  
>You say<br>Love is a temple  
>Love a higher law<br>Love is a temple  
>Love the higher law<br>You ask me to enter

But then you make me crawl  
>And I can't be holding on<br>To what you got  
>When all you got is hurt<p>

_Maybe I'm far enough. Hang in there, it's almost dawn, the road goes away as the Golf devour it._

_How much did we hurt each other, Bella? The proof that I'm an idiot is, that I would do it all again, from the beginning, even tonight._

_Even tonight, everything._

_It's too much for me to imagine what will you do tomorrow, your wedding dress was hanging in your room. I haven't kissed you, I didn't let your eyes, I kept them tied to us and to what could have been. Do what you want now, you've done it with me, do it with your memories if you can and then hate me, it will be better for everyone._

-I would do it all again- _I hear my voice, I speak with you now and can't lie to you. You know very well that I was real, it was really me, so no regrets and no remorse. I leave with you inside, but we're not going to hurt each other anymore. Is it true that time will cure this, too? I'm at the end of my way. I can't stand it any longer, now I'm just pain._

One love  
>One blood<br>One life  
>You got to do what you should<br>One life  
>With each other<br>Sisters  
>Brothers<p>

_My life is shattered, everything is broken, the brothers, the beach, my home, my father. The stories that I hated, I will no longer hear them from the mouth of the elderly. The white trunk on the beach.  
>Your cheeks, the wind that hits them, my hand on your cold skin.<br>It's just your fault, you idiot, how did they say? That when the gods want to punish us they fulfill our desires. Now you'll bring her with you forever.  
>Behind me is the dawn, I've raced enough, I ran for miles and miles but you're not behind me. You are in front of me, above and around, you don't go away, the pain does not heal, there is nothing to do.<br>Now I know what to do. I fasten my things on my leg.  
>The Golf, damn, my Golf will make a bad end. I can't wait anymore, so much it's the end of the world. Time out, I gotta go.<br>I press on toward the trees, in a moment I have nothing on me apart from you. Soon I will lose you for the last time, I'll have only the forest with its smells and the sound of my legs on the grass, and I'm lost in the run._

One life  
>But we're not the same<br>We get to  
>Carry each other<br>Carry each other  
>One life<br>One...

_**U2, "One"**_

-Good morning, am I speaking to Mr. Black?  
>-Good morning, Billy Black speaking, well tell me.<br>-Here is Collins, Traffic Police in Renton, Mr. Black. Look, here we have your car. A red Golf of 1986, is it right? It was left three days ago in no-parking, open.  
>-Oh, good. Thank you, Agent Collins.<br>-We have checked, you haven't reported a stolen car…  
>-That's right.<br>-What should we do then? Mr. Black? - 

Tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut


	4. Everything's all right, Charlie Swan

_**Everything's all right, Charlie Swan**_

The midwife had been quick and efficient.  
>-Lie here, Mrs. Cullen. Did I tell you that I worked in Dr. Cullen's team for a few months? What a fantastic person. Will you give him my greetings when you'll meet him?<br>-I will. Ouch. Is it good like that?

-Yes, stop now ... Here is the heart ... strong and regular, as always.  
>She turned up the volume of the small Doppler which had been placed on my belly, protruding like a round and shiny mountain.<p>

_Thump thump thump thump thump_

_Hi, love. Then you are still there? Is everything all right?  
><em>  
>The control had only confirmed what was already obvious: I was really good, the baby was growing regularly, there was nothing to worry about. My tummy was growing before our eyes, making me seem, more and more every day, the living Monument to Motherhood (as I liked to think) or the Monument to the Big White Whale (as Emmet liked to say).<p>

However, neither Emmet's jokes nor my growing clumsiness could affect my feeling of well-being and health and glow, in which I swam as in a long, infinite wave. I tried to describe it to myself, this feeling, and all the words and images I found were bright: fullness, bloom, abundance, ripeness. Something like the golden wheat fields in August or the vast green fields of summer forage, which can be seen in our plains.

October was just finished, the horrible rainy October in Forks, but in the golden cloud that surrounded me it was undoubtedly a lush summer, which had only a flaw-not for me, for those around me: it further increased my strange isolation , where only the little stranger that lived in me was allowed to keep me company.

It was raining for all of them and the sky was gray; for us it was always a sunny day.

I must confess I had no particular feelings for the creature that took up more and more space in me. Not those which I imagined being the right feelings of a devoted expectant mother, happy to be such. I could not even imagine the baby. Once perhaps, long ago, I represented him or her to me as a kind of an Edward in miniature; the image I had built had to do with something totally abstract and with the overwhelming love of the first months together. Now that I felt this little body moving inside me, I knew he or she would have had a life, a face and a personality all of its own. And I wondered, will the baby love me? Would I like him or her? How would we go along together?

I thought of it as a little person that I would meet very soon, and I wondered if we would become friends.

My body was sending me the message that I was creating a life, and for once I felt myself to be part of something magical. In this legend of mine, however, there were no vampires or monsters of any kind, there were only so many mothers, or a single goddess of motherhood that was repeated in every woman.  
>The world seemed full of pregnant bellies that I saw everywhere, feeling close to each of these women as to a sister of blood.<p>

While still not understanding all about motherhood, I saw Renee with my new eyes. I imagined her young, only eighteen year old, made sweetly heavy by the belly in which I had swam; and I felt for her a special and unexpected tenderness.

I was beautiful, I could see it in the mirror and in the eyes of all who watched me; but to see myself beautiful was nothing compared to that gift of health and prosperity that I had received.  
>My little tenant was anxious to show how he felt fit. He kicked like a dancer, at regular intervals, not missing an opportunity: taste of chocolate, a walk, a drive, a happy song, a slow song, country or classical or rap music. There was no correlation, I concluded: he would kick only for the sake of it. Alive &amp; kicking. <p>

_Thump thump thump thump thump thump._

I already knew that he (or she) was there and was fine, but the sound never ceased to fill me with wonder. There was another heart in me. I knew nothing else about him or her, except that heartbeat, it was all that I had.

Because it was impossible to see anything.

We had no ultrasound in which the precise forms stood out. The other mothers I met when I went to see the midwife commented ecstatic the first "picture" of their children; almost all knew the sex, profiles and recognized similarities, they knew if the baby was stocky or slender, or if it would be minutes or robust at birth.

My belly instead, of course, produced only phantoms, confused shadows, a little more than what my brain communicated to Edward. Nothing that could be read. And Alice could see nothing actually, leaving me cold with fear every time I remembered it.

Not being able to do anything, I tried not to think about it.

However the doctor, which at times was Carlisle himself, could take some measure by which we knew that the fetus was growing well; but it was not possible to see, for example, what was the sex and whether all the internal organs were in their right place.

Carlisle had suggested that the membranes were thicker than normal, because of the extraordinary density of vampire's skin. Fortunately, other physicians who occasionally visited me, when he was not on duty, continued to accept the explanations –I don't even know which- that my father in law was serving them, and made no more questions.

After half an hour my husband and me were out of the hospital and I eagerly opened the door of the Guardian.  
>- Finished today! Let's go straight to Charlie then.<br>-No way, Bella. You're tired, we go straight home. You must lie down a little.  
>He had done it again.<p>

Now that I knew the mechanism and had become aware of it, I was able to identify right away the moment when I start to feel cold and angry.  
>First time it had happened on a Sunday afternoon, a few weeks before.<p>

The whole family had gathered in the living room on the ground floor of the Cullen house, now frozen in a scene that I knew so well that I could paint it.

The members of my new family felt themselves totally free to be spontaneous in my presence; they didn't even try, no more, to play that meticulous scene that was intended to give them a semblance of humanity, a fiction made of false breathing, small movements and twitching thoroughly studied and controlled. They stood still like stones, free in their true nature of vampires, and looked like many wonderful statues each representing a domestic activity. Carlisle was reading as usual, Esme was sitting at the table looking at the drawings of some projects, Edward was at the piano and played, moving only his fingers and nothing else. My sisters and brothers in law were playing some game that I didn't know, sitting at another table.

I was napping, curled up against the arm of the couch under a soft white blanket, and re-read the recipe of the true Italian sauce for the third time on a cookbook, a present of my father. Wondering, from time to time, if I would ever cooked that sauce or anything else in that house, as cooking was Esme's favorite activity and in any case I would become a vampire sooner or later, and nobody here would have appreciated _Spaghetti al Ragù di carne_, neither I nor the other Cullens. The baby, perhaps ...

Suddenly Carlisle, as if struck by the memory of a forgotten engagement, broke the silence.

-Hmm ... we must organize the childbirth sooner or later. We should make decisions .

Edward had stopped playing piano.

-What's your opinion, Carlisle? Should she give birth at home or in hospital or where?

-My son, if we keep into account only her health and her child's, she could probably give birth where she wants, because everything is going perfectly. The fact is, we don't know anything about the nature of your child...

I felt a curious sense of wonder to hear someone talking about _my child_, when I myself could not even think of that word, nor use it.

Carlisle looked at Edward's eyes. Now they were both worried.  
>-What if ... if it needed blood soon after the birth? Not a transfusion, I mean .<br>My breasts, which were exactly doubled in volume since the beginning of the pregnancy, presaged something different. But I said nothing and kept listening.  
>Esme intervened.<p>

-It's really hard ... At the hospital she could have everything she need, even in the case of an emergency. But in fact, if we were to give the child to _drink_? What should we do?

-Well, Bella should have a private room and we could bring in whatever we want. Indeed, we could rent the whole floor for my little sister!- laughed Emmett.  
>-Yes ... This is a good idea. I could even decorate it all if we had a floor reserved to us ...- This was Alice.<br>-But I think it would be better to give birth at home. Imagine what could happen if only someone discovers by accident that we are giving the baby a bottle of ... B +!  
>Emmett laughed uproariously at the joke of Rose, and this had given way to fun chatters about everything that was necessary to have ready some "food" for the baby. The image of a newborn baby gently sucking from a red bottle appeared in front of me and made my stomach turn upside down.<p>

I watched them for a while and suddenly realized that no one would turn towards me.  
>They talked as if I hadn't been there.<p>

They were organizing in front of me the birth of the child that I was carrying, without asking me anything.  
>And what was worse, Edward discussed with them and made decisions on <em>me<em> with _them_.  
>The memory of another scene took me back in time.<p>

That evening I had decided to go to visit a friend, to solve some of our misunderstandings, and Edward had tampered with the Chevy to prevent me from going.  
>Another time, I had been almost kidnapped and entrusted to Alice, because they didn't like that I attended the werewolves of La Push -something I had done for month!- even if I was absolutely certain, and I had repeated it dozens of times, that I ran no real risk. And I had spoken advisedly, because there was someone who would have protected me even risking his life, if necessary.<p>

Not to mention my marriage, that Alice had organized according to _her_ taste in every way. It was normal for her to ignore my preferences. I was sure that she loved me and that she behaved that way because she was full of good intentions, but I was equally sure that she considered me unable to choose even which trousers to wear every morning.  
>Alice had organized parties that I didn't really wanted, offered me gifts that didn't interested me, revealed to me things I didn't want to know, and revealed to other things that concerned me, without ever asking my permission.<p>

They continued to talk and make plans concerning me, excluding Emmet who had turned the TV on.  
>And I, where was I?<br>I also remembered that none of them had made the slightest problem to call "dog", "bastard" or worse my best friend, in front of me.

And, worst of all.

I remembered when Edward had decided that the best thing for me was to leave me.

He had abandoned me to an excruciating pain, deciding in my place which life I should live.

I remembered all the many times that all of them had decided, organized, established something without even asking me. I had not asked, I would have never dared to tell them what to do on issues that affected their lives -even though logically, being now the wife of Edward, I could at least express my opinion. But now they were exaggerating and this perception acted on my nerves like a broken chalk on a blackboard, and woke me up abruptly. I had always allowed that. I, nobody else.

But now it was no longer something about me, only me: this consciousness hit me with the power of lightning in the forest.

-Does anybody mind if I express my opinion too?  
>I took the opportunity to talk in the first breach of silence that opened in their conversation. I looked at them with a coldness of which I would never believed to be able. With hardness. As if I had understood that it was necessary, that I should appeal to all my energy, because this time there was someone at stake that was much, so much more important than me.<p>

-My baby will be born at the hospital, in Forks- I said, slowly -I think we all remember what happened here the last time I lost a little blood. A birth can be a very bloody event .  
>I felt faint as I remembered that night, but I continued.<br>-I will give birth in the hospital. I want only Carlisle with me, if he accepts to. And if someone else wants to be there, he or she will have to wait in the waiting room .

I saw seven pairs of eyes staring at me stunned ... but it was nothing compared to how I was amazed by myself.

-Bella, darling...- began Edward. I had already my shoes on. I went out, took the Guardian and drove to Port Angeles, until when the anger subsided and I felt I was ready to go back home.

From time to time, due to some bad habits that I myself had given him from the beginning- and, I suspect, partly because of a certain presumption- Edward behaved as if nothing had happened that Sunday afternoon; he had begun to treat me like a person incapable of consent. But something had changed irreversibly, and was still changing as my belly grew and the day of birth approached.

-Edward, if you don't want to come to Charlie, jump in the car and go home. I'm going to see my father. He will take me home later. Ok?

I was learning to do what I thought was right and even what I simply liked to do. Sometimes. But I was sure it was not for selfishness, and for this reason I felt stronger, with the strength of a reason that was unknown to me before my pregnancy. I simply wanted that this baby had a mother he or she could trust.

Edward more than any other suffered this change, in that moment for instance. I was sure that my constant estrangement, together with this new unknown hardness, were slowly fading the image he had made of me. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I felt so sorry for having been so rude.  
>-Come on, come along. We drink a cup of tea together and we go home early .<p>

-As you like- hissed Edward, still annoyed, and minutes later we were in sight of my former house.  
>As I walked up the driveway leading to the door of Charlie, the bad mood was already gone, and I smiled with tenderness.<br>I don't know if this had anything to do with my pregnancy, but I had never enough to see my daddy. My dad, that I could still see without putting him in danger, that I could still embrace without fear of killing him because of the uncontrollable thirst of a newborn vampire. My beloved dad however, months before, had left me more than astonished -petrified, I would say- with his reaction to the news of my pregnancy.  
>As usual, there hadn't been too many words between us.<p>

-Dad, we must tell you something .

Charlie, collapsed in his chair, had torn himself from his baseball game and had turned toward me and Edward, who sat on the couch and pretended to read a magazine.

-Huh? Well tell me, guys .  
>-It's something ... er, very important. Dad ...<br>I hesitated. To be more precise, I completely froze.  
>-Relax, Bella. You and the guy here are already married, what could you ever tell me more shocking? - had continued Charlie, with a half-smile. Then, slowly, his face had changed color: purple, then back to pink, then pale. He had answered himself.<p>

-Are you ... ah, you're ... Urgh ...

A deep breath.  
>-You ...<p>

He just could not pull off _that_ word, as if he had a fishbone in his throat.  
>-Yes, Charlie. Bella is pregnant. You're about to become a grandfather!<p>

Edward had mercifully ended the sentence with impeccable manners, but he could not contain his pride and his happiness. And I was ready to embrace a trembling and excited Charlie. Perhaps, to wipe a few tears, too.

-Ah. Very well!

Pause.

Pause, again.

And again. Too long.

-Dad? -

-Mmm, yes. I think we should celebrate.

He had gotten up very, very quietly to fetch something in the fridge.

Then I got up myself too, in the throes of an uncontrollable desire to leave. I don't read minds, but with my father it's not necessary, not for me. In that moment he had a bright display on the forehead, on which some words flowed, written in large letters: "I'm not happy, no more than when you told me you were getting married with this weird... Edward, at the age of eighteen. However, since you're my only daughter and I don't want to loose you, I will make the best of this. "

He would have never used all these words, but this was the sense and I could not read it more clearly.  
>To leave slamming the door would have been appropriate, but neither I didn't want to lose my father. Not that this trifle had put at risk our affection, but I could not stand to have even a small disagreement with him, not now.<br>The "party" had ended very soon, without further inconvenience to anyone.

We drank our cup of tea in a peaceful silence, broken only by the hum of the news from the TV.  
>It was almost dark, and now I felt like going back to the Cullen's for dinner and go to bed.<br>-Edward, darling, shall we go?  
>My husband had gone out to take the Guardian parked nearby. It would have taken a few minutes to go, not to let Charlie guess his extraordinary speed.<p>

My father helped me to put my jacket on and I opened the door.  
>He stopped just one step before the threshold.<br>-Bella, honey. Are you all right?

_Bella, my little girl.  
>You know how much I love you, right?<br>I've never been good with words, I'm just a cop in a ridiculous little town, and for years in my house I haven't even talked to myself. I like to go fishing because fishes don't speak. And Billy speaks very little, and even Harry Clearwater was not a big talker. I really miss Harry._

_If I was good with words, maybe your mother would not have run away from me and maybe I could tell Sue what I feel for her. Thank goodness she's part of the band: she talks even less than me, if that were possible._

_I know you're not angry with Sue, and I know that you're glad that someone -besides you- can bear me. But why do you go away immediately when you find Sue here? And the same if there's Billy?  
>I see you're all right, I mean physically.<br>But you're like ... inaccessible. From time to time you're even hard, with your husband, with me, with those who come too close to you. As if you were military zone, surrounded by signs prohibiting access. Stay out of danger.  
>You've been so… difficult only in that period. A year ago, more or less, and I don't want to remember, I'm still sick.<em>

_And, Bella, I do have to tell you._

_Why don't you ask me about Jacob?_

_Don't you see how strange it is?_

_I can't tell you the truth. I can't tell you I know the answer. I know that if I tell you this, now, you cross that threshold and I don't see you anymore. I just know it's like that, I'd bet on it._

_I know there's something wrong. I don't understand you: you rejected Jacob, so what?_

_Jacob has been missing for months and we have no idea of where he is. Billy is aged ten years since he's gone and you who've always been kind to all, you never ask of them._

_You don't go to La Push, you don't call anyone, don't even talk to Seth who is a friend of your husband._

_How could I stop worrying? I am a poor man, but I don't think I'm completely idiot. And I feel something painful inside when I see you with this big belly, honey. It's not exactly what I dreamed for you when you were a little girl._

_It's too early, for everything. You do not know yet how it can be mocking, life._

_But if you are happy it's OK for me, well you're not me and you'll be far better, in everything._

_How can I tell you these things? I mean, you'd send me to hell if I dare tell you._

_Bella. Are you happy, baby?_

_It's all I want to know._

-Of course it's all right, Dad. I've seen the midwife today. It's all perfect, as it should be. Maybe even better. 

_Careful what you say, Dad.  
><em>  
>-All right then.<p>

- 'Night, Charlie .-

- 'Night, guys. See you soon.

He had remained in the doorway, watching me get to the Guardian, while I closed myself again in my personal prison of golden mist.

_Thank you so much to those that will express their opinion. Please, only a few words would make me happy._

_With love,_

_J._


	5. Pornography

**Pornography  
><strong> 

_A hand in my mouth  
>A life spills into the flowers<br>We all look so perfect  
>As we all fall down<br>In an electric glare  
>The old man cracks with age<br>His last picture she found  
>In the ashes of the fire<br>An image of the queen_

__  
>-Hey! Time to wake up!<br>She snatched the sheet, revealing the long, muscular naked body that filled her bed, too short for him. The boy's feet dangled off the mattress. "You are far out of range, darling, my bed is perfect, nobody complained until today" she answered, to an imaginary protest. In fact, only a loud and regular vibration was coming from the bed.

"Nice ass, definitely" she thought, approaching the bed.

No reaction: the big beefy guy was still snoring, lying face down across the mattress. He had not even moved and she had to go to work.  
>On the other hand she had reacted. The show which she was enjoying was not everyday stuff.<p>

His broad shoulders, his arms so long and strong. On the right arm stood a tribal tattoo that looked mysteriously appropriate on the warm color of his skin.

You could have guessed the dark skin of his genitals just under the buttocks and his shapely thigh, folded to grab a pillow.

The vision hit her and made something twist , deeply inside her, stronger than the smell of sex that filled the shabby room. She realized she was wet and ready to start again. If only she could stay, instead of going to work…

-I said, wake up! - barked the girl at the ear of her guest, snatching also the pillow. This time, signs of life.

-Mmmmnghmnnn ... just one moment, dad?

_Dad?_

She lost her patience. The glass full of water on the bedside table took flight and landed directly on the back of her host, as a cold slap.

-Hey! What the hell? Are you crazy?

He raised himself and swung around, ready to fight or flight like a true wild animal.

"Absolutely fantastic, even side A" she recorded, looking at him brazenly. She was devouring him with her eyes and there was nothing she could see that was not smooth, solid, carved. And strong. And virile.

She recalled that a few hours before she had sunk her nails into his shoulders and broad chest, while she was on him. She would have willingly send to hell the earnings of a whole day, just to touch that male body again, just to inhale once more the warm and unknown smell of him.

-Oh-he muttered, passing a hand over his eyes.

He looked at himself and realized he was completely naked.

_Shit, I did it again._

She noticed that a flash of redness darkened his sulky face, his warm coppery complexion. He was handsome, definitely. "Never had one like him" she thought, pleased, "nor ever known, to be honest. Must have been my lucky day, yesterday."

-God, what happened? What the hell ...- he asked.

You could have read the headache on his face, something like a nail stuck in his brain just a couple of inches above his right eyebrow.

The grimacing on the boy's face revealed fatigue. Perhaps the futile effort to remember.

She didn't need to make any effort to remember, everything was still clear in her mind. They had drunk a lot, then she had dragged him out of the TittyTwister *, pulling him away from the clutches of a couple of mewling girls hanging on his arms. He hadn't objected and had just followed her, so surprisingly submissive, as if he had nothing else to do and nowhere else to go.

_Better than sleeping outside, isnt'it? _

Maybe he had done the same the night before, and the night before, she wondered. Something told her she was right, he was lost like a lonely dog.

She decided that the astonishment on his face was genuine. How strange, he was showing at least twenty five years, but the look in his eyes in that moment would have best fitted a kid novice.

-Want to know if you did fuck me? Of course you did, honey. And you managed quite well, believe me.

_Yes, I remember.  
>Drunks always remember.<br>Fuck you want from me now? Let me sleep . Let me forget._

It was so difficult to wake up but he didn't really care. It was not important. He liked to stay like that, between misty dreams and fog, drowning into unconsciousness that went and came like a grey wave. It was better than being awake, a lot better than thinking.

At the beginning he had shouted the wrong name, then he had learnt that just one drink, maybe two would made everything a lot easier. And there was nothing else he could do, not for the moment. Pain was still too fresh and still burning, every night fresh and burning; in his dreams she suddenly changed herself in a monster that devoured his flesh and drank his blood. But it wasn't a dream, he knew it was true; it was something that already happened, a story and not a legend. It was all over. Game over. Pain was graved in his body and he could never forget.

Something poisoned his feelings, as when you sleep and a dream becomes a nightmare, and the smile of a beloved face becomes a hideous grin. As when a seemingly insignificant gesture destroys a memory forever.

The redness of his face gave way to a bad grin.

-I was good, you say?

His hand went down to touch himself, his fingers closed around his hardness. He was ready.

_Don't look. Bitch._

His hand played, careless, and he left it go. His body decided which way to go. And this also was a surprise for him: how much did that part alone, sometimes. 

She swallowed hard. She didn't lower her eyes.

-So what?- said him - Shall I do it myself?  
>That random movement captured her perception and her whole body opened. She was suddenly wet and this hadn't happened for years. Not in this way.<p>

"To hell with the job," she thought. "He's ready"  
>She was dressed with nothing, it didn't take long to undress and get back. She tried to climb over him as she had done the night before: sprawled on the bed, he had allowed her to move at her pleasure. Then he had grabbed her hips to go deeper and finish. It had been cruelly exciting. <p>

_Echoes round the sweating bed  
>Sour yellow sounds inside my head<br>In books  
>And movies<br>And in life  
>And in heaven<br>The sound of slaughter  
>As your body turns<em>

This time he would not allow it. He stopped her, and moving him would be like moving a rock.

He pushed her head down and forced her on all fours, open to his curiosity. Then he fumbled her with his fingers, everywhere, curious and sharp like a young animal. With one hand he explored, with the other he held her hair. _Was he hurting her?_ He penetrated her from behind, while a sigh more like a muffled growl ran through his throat. She moaned.

-Still in a hurry?

_Bitch._

He left her hair and grabbed her hips with both hands, then started to move stronger and faster, stronger and faster.

He came in a few moments.

Too fast for her.

She turned, her back on the bed, seeking him with her eyes. She didn't manage to stop moaning and whimpering now, pleading. She didn't dare to move or touch him or herself. She had been abandoned half-way and now she needed him. _Cruelly exciting?_ She needed him anyway, his mouth, his hands or him, again.

She looked at him, waiting, but he didn't move. He was on the bed beside her, on the opposite side, facing the wall painting of fake happiness, where a clock struck seconds and minutes, endless.  
>In the silence of the room her arrogance was lost and gave room to despair. She was naked, exposed in her most intimate parts, pleading, possessed by a weakness she could not remember she ever knew before. She felt for a moment the painful sensation of all her empty nights.<p>

Usually she was very careful not to think of her life, but this time she could not escape: it was just for a split second, but she felt helpless in front of herself. In front of him.

If only she were able to think, she would also have been frightened for the way he looked at her now.

He was lying on his side, staring at her.

With empty eyes. Without seeing her.

A sour smile on the boy's face, lips drawn aside as to discover his teeth.  
>He reached out and touched her to the her centre, where she was still hot and throbbing. Once, slowly. And then again. Slowly.<p>

And then he stopped.  
>-Do it yourself, darling, I gotta go.<p>

He got out of bed and put on the shorts he was wearing the night before. He retrieved his t-shirt crumpled on the floor.

She was still on the bed, legs open, still moaning.

-You bastard!

Too late to stop, too late. She was too far beyond her humiliation. She was forced by a powerful need to finish alone. Her hand increased the pace and she came angrily, insulting him as he crossed the door without turning back.

_But it's too late  
>One more day like today and I'll kill you<br>A desire for flesh  
>And real blood<br>I'll watch you drown in the shower  
>Pushing my life through your open eyes<em>

Outside it was morning and the pale daylight was blinding, sharp to his eyes. The boy could not remember how much he used to love the sunlight.

He walked quickly over a couple of blocks, then had to stop. With one hand he propped himself against the wall and threw up, head down, until he had nothing else inside but the acid taste of bile, in his mouth and nostrils. A few more steps and he had to stop again, but this time the pain was not in his stomach and he could not expell it.

_Shit, I'm sorry_

_I'm sorry so sorry so sorry_

Back to the wall, he hid his face with both hands and dropped to the ground.

_I must fight this sickness  
>Find a cure<br>I must fight this sickness_

No vision behind his closed eyelids, no relief from the memories of his past. It all seemed so distant as to have never been true.

He rested his aching head on his knees and stood still, the sun rising in the opaque sky. He breathed and breathed again, motionless to avoid any other unexpected sting of pain.

Fortunately it was Sunday morning, few people. No danger to be questioned by a pitiful stranger. The few who passed gave a look and pulled straight, maybe scared by his massive body. Dangerous. He looked dangerous. He knew.

No one spoke to him, and it was good because he wouldn't have been able to answer.

The sun was now high, warm enough to heat his skin. He roused himself and a moment later he was standing again. He began to run along the edge of the road, not knowing whither he went. There were trees to the horizon.

He ran again, and again, without looking back.

_**Author's corner**_

This chapter is ugly, dirty and nasty and I had to make an effort to write it. But the plot needed it and if you continue to follow me I hope to convince you that I'm right.  
>The rating of this chapter is M+, you're informed.<p>

The song is **"Pornography"** and belongs to **The Cure**.  
>The "TittyTwister" is the place where the motorhome of George Clooney stops for the night in "From Dusk Till Dawn". Full of vampires. It seemed appropriated, hi hi :-)<p>

Please let me know: it has been horribly difficult to translate this lemon scene from Italian. I'd like to know if the "message", at least, reached you.

Thank you so much for reading.


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